


Perfection

by Monsterunderkilt



Series: The Manse [6]
Category: Actor RPF, Celebrities & Real People - Fandom, Real Person RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-28 23:16:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17192045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsterunderkilt/pseuds/Monsterunderkilt
Summary: The Manse dwellers contemplate the newest boyfriend to keep me company until actual “Perfection” comes to town.





	Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I am dealing with my sadness over the prospect that the next season of The Last Kingdom will not have Alfred in it. Damnit, I love him!

Stevezie watches me from afar, counting every step I take farther from the Manse as I walk along the curtain wall. He stares at me in the same manner as I stare out at the sea below: with equal parts wonder and longing. Just as I reach a corner tower, pausing to lean into an embrasure on the parapet, he senses someone behind him. He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Has Perfection arrived?” Stevezie asks as he turns to see the new face. He wrinkles his brow. “Not quite yet,” he says. “You merely resemble him.”

David Dawson blinks, a bit of puzzlement crossing his otherwise stone-faced resolve. “I was summoned,” he says, adjusting his grey check fedora. 

Stevezie turns back to watch me continue my lazy stroll around the wall. “I can see why,” he says to himself. “The great reunion draws near.”

David steps forward, following Stevezie’s eyeline to where I stand. They both study my pensive movements, unable to see the wistfulness in my half-lidded eyes. “I gather she does this... invites only those who please her,” David says.

“Only the ones who intrigue her,” Stevezie clarifies. “Ever since she returned to the Manse, she has been far less gregarious, only allowing her most deeply respected favourite companions to remain, only permitting a new face just now.” He turns to David and points at him with a thumb. “You’re definitely the type.”

“What type, exactly, if I may ask?”

“The type who makes her ache the most. The day is close. The closer we get, the farther we are from the last day they were together, so though the anticipation gives her hope and energy, every hour is yet another spent without him.”

“Who is—”

“Perfection. That’s all you need to know.” Stevezie turns away and walks across the balcony to have a seat in one of the wicker patio chairs. He holds out a hand to the chair across from him. 

David takes the seat and leans forward, elbows on his knees, narrowing his eyes at my Number One. “Why am I here, then, if she already has this Perfection on its way?”

“Because you’re, in her words, ADORABLE. And she loves your face.”

David smiles awkwardly. “What do I do?”

“Just go down there, be yourself. Enjoy the flirting and the innuendo. These first encounters are always fun.” 

“Don’t you mind at all?”

Stevezie chuckles and leans back, clasping his fingers behind his head. His eyes look up as he thinks. “She hasn’t had a new boyfriend in a good long while, David. She really adores you. It’s been building up and now she can’t ignore it. Just remember... we’re all just shadows of her favourite. We’re here to keep her company during the great Interims. None of us have the right to mind at all.”

David’s gaze darkens and he studies his feet. “I’ve heard so much about the Manse and its many dwellers. So what if... I fall for her as you have?”

Stevezie nods and winks. “We all fall for her. But not because that’s what she wants. She really just wants the chance to fall for us, to indulge her heart’s most irrational infatuations. If she loves you enough, you’ll be around enough to learn this for yourself. Along with all the other damned rules she has around here.” He stands up and reaches over, offering his hand. David shakes it. “Now go get our girl.”

********************

His footsteps introduce him long before I even catch my first glimpse; they are slow but steady, and surprisingly light despite the heavy black Doctor Martens on his feet. I smile before I even turn to see him and I’m grinning like an idiot at how his hat stashes his floppy hair off his already wide forehead, and even wider-set eyes. The sleeves of his grey cashmere jumper are just a bit too long, but paired with the skinny black trousers, it just hit all the right notes with me. His whole body just seems so familiar, as if previously charted, and I blush to think how I most definitely have a TYPE. Stevezie knows it. Jon and Stephen and Ben and Tennant know it. They all do, really. They’re probably taking bets right now on how long this takes.

David is watching his feet as he approaches, hands clasped behind his back, and when he notices that I’ve already noticed him, he grins and quickly ducks toward an embrasure two embrasures down from my own. He leans between the merlons, and all I see is his skinny torso and legs, his feet nervously tapping. 

I saunter up and wedge myself beside him, both of us leaning on our elbows. I nudge his shoulder with my own and grin. “How’s it hanging, my Lord?”

David laughs, nudging back, finally meeting my gaze. We simultaneously hold our breath, as if our lungs are stunned by the very sight of each other. Both our stupid smiles melt away, and with nary a blink, we grab each other’s faces and lunge into a kiss so quickly that we stumble and would have fallen had we not been leaning against the parapet. We then just take to leaning hard into one another, as if we could somehow defy the Pauli Exclusion Principle. Hands and fingers flutter over every surface of our bodies, seeking out breaks in fabric and ducking into and under folds just to feel the heat of bare skin. Without missing a beat, he cups his hands on my bum as I jump and wrap my legs around his waist. With a grunt, he turns so he can set me on the parapet, and our kiss continues unabated. Breathlessly, shirts start peeling off, falling over the edge of the wall, down to the unceasingly churning sea waves. 

My eyes roll back into my head. I relish the feeling of the lean but toned limbs and chest now hotly pressing against me. “Oh my god, David, you’re beautiful,” I say with a deep groaning. “Don’t fucking stop.”

He gasps through a boyish grin as I take his hat and place in on my head. I reach for his trousers and he goes for his own belt. “Allow me, Madam,” he says, deftly loosening his belt and freeing his slender, pink cock from the confines of the damned tight fabric. 

“Oh yes, please!” I say, glad I only wore a skirt today.

***************

The befuddlement on Benedict’s face is twisting his features every which way as he surveys the scene from Stevezie’s balcony. He scratches his curly hair. “Well, there’s a remarkable sight.”

“You owe me $100, buddy,” Stevezie says. “And that’s in U.S. dollars, not your swiftly deflating pounds sterling.”

“Fucking brexit,” Benedict mumbles as he turns away when my groaning joins David’s as the mutual sound travels across the courtyard. “Perfection must be close.”

Stevezie leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. “She only gets this randy in the last last week before he arrives.”

“It’s asymptotically close,” Benedict adds. “The ache is tangible. It’s permeating everything, like a miasma.” 

“Why else would she watch Broadchurch on Christmas Day?” Tennant says as he steps out onto the balcony, beer mug in hand. “She’s a strange creature.”

“Hey, I want one of those!” Stevezie says.

Tennant wipes the foam from his upper lip. “Sorry, mate, this is the last one,” he says as he hands the mug over to Stevezie. “It’s nice.”

Benedict peeks over at the escalating sex scene below and turns away again. “David Dawson, though. Good guy. Talented, for sure. But I thought he might be gay.”

Stevezie snorts a laugh into the beer mug. “As if that matters.”

“He’s bisexual at the very least,” Tennant says. “Just like she likes them.”

“There’s something extra mysterious about somewhat effeminate men for her. I’m surprised this hasn’t happened sooner.” Stevezie stands and hands Benedict the mug. “She’ll sleep better tonight.”

Benedict sips the beer and hands it back to Tennant as they all survey the living porn on the parapet. “Anyone else getting turned on by this?”

Tennant sighs. “Oh, you bet. Damn that woman and her wiles.”


End file.
